Genetics
by beltloop
Summary: Edward asked Roy to help him get away from his abusive marriage. He needed to get back on his feet and he needed a way to support Winry and the kids. Most of all, he needed access to some major libraries because there was something that wasn't quite right. Abusive!WinryxEd, RoyEd later on. In Progress. Rated M just in case.
1. We're Leaving

_**I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.**_

_**A/N: I read an abusive!WinxEd RoyEd fic once and I loved it. But I have more in stock for this story than just romance. Credit for the image to Teh-Dave on deviantart. **_

Three sharp raps on the door.

It was a moment before it was pulled open and a young blonde boy stood in front of Roy. He looked exactly how Roy imagined Edward would look when he was younger, but with baby blue eyes exactly like Winry's. _This must be Maes_, Roy thought, remembering him from when he saw the boy once before. He should be about six years old now.

"Who are you?" The boy asked crudely. He was definitely Edward's son.

Roy knelt down to Maes' height and smiled. "My name is Roy Mustang. Are your parents home?"

Maes hesitated before closing the door in Roy's face, who grumbled grumpily as he stood up again. Roy was getting too old for this. He heard Maes calling for his mother and quickly the door opened again. This time, Roy was faced with Winry.

"General! How nice of you to visit!" She had a blonde girl in her arms and was bouncing her up and down, which struck Roy as odd. The girl seemed about 4; too old to be treated like an infant. Looking at Winry, Roy realized that she had matured to match her age. She was a mother and looked the part; her hair was up in a messy bun, she had worry lines that seemed permanently imbedded into her forehead, crows feet by her eyes and bags under them, and her girlish figure was starting to go to her hips.

"Ah, yes. Fullmetal asked for me to come up here."

"Oh?" Winry seemed actually surprised. Did he not tell her? Perhaps things were worse than Edward's letter let on. "Okay then. Come on in, General."

He followed her inside the house and she seated him at a table, which was currently littered with paper, crayons, and cups of juice.

"I'm sorry about the mess, I would've cleaned up if…" She trailed off, quickly turning around and heading a separate way. _If she had known_, Roy finished in his head.

"EDWARD!" Winry screeched, looking up the stairs. "You have COMPANY." The girl in her arms started crying and Winry gasped. "Oh, no! No, no, no, no!" She cooed, patting the girl's back. "Sara, baby, it's okay." _Ah, yes. That was her name_, Roy remembered. _Sara_.

There was a stomping overhead and an angry huff as Edward emerged from the top of the stairwell and looked at his wife, "Jeeze, Win, I told you not to yell around Sara! She doesn't like it! Why can't you get that in your head?"

Winry took a look of offence. "Not to yell?" She repeated incredulously. "Well maybe I wouldn't yell if you had TOLD ME YOU INVITED COMPANY."

Edward stopped in front of her. His lips were pursed and his fists were clenched. "Didn't I just say to stop yelling in front of Sara?!"

Sara just cried harder. Winry merely flared her nostrils and clutched Sara closer. "You're so difficult! Just—Ugh!" She stomped her foot like a child. "Just go do whatever business you have with Mustang. I'll be putting Sara to bed." Maes gripped at Winry's pants and followed his mother to Sara's room.

Edward didn't say anything and walked past Winry, eyes set on Roy. He walked over to the table and sat down, putting his head in his hands, fingers tangled in his own fringe. "Mustang," He muttered.

"Fullmetal," Roy acknowledged back. Edward still looked youthful as ever, though he must be about 28. The main differences were that his hair had gotten longer, his skin had lost its tan, and parenthood had taken its toll. The stress was evident on his face, and his unhappiness was clear in his dulled golden eyes.

"I'm not an alchemist anymore. Don't call me that."

"I apologize. It's been quite a while since we've spoken last. I suppose it's merely habit."

Roy had come up to Risembool on a whim. He had gotten a letter in the mail from Edward, and he didn't even reply before heading up. Edward was miserable. He was unhappy in his marriage, he was restless, and he altogether felt dead inside. Roy could see this now. It was plain as day, plastered on the face on the man in front of him.

"I need to get out of here, Mustang."

"I read that. How can I help?"

"A job… I need a place to stay. I'll send money to Win, ya'know, for the kids. I'll visit them." He raked his hands through his fringe as he gave a shuttered sigh. "I can't live this life, Mustang. This is Al's thing, not mine."

"Does Winry know?"

"I can't… Mustang, you don't get how it is here. She's off her rocker." Edward looked up at him with crazed eyes. "She'll kill me."

"Edward, you have to tell her you're leaving."

"I… I can't. Just please-"

"I'm not taking you with me unless you do."

Edward's breath hitched as female voice cut in. It was deadly sharp. "Take him where?"

"Oh fuck," Edward clutched at his head, staring down at the table.

Roy merely sat there, stunned at their behavior. He had previously, before the letter, thought that the two blondes were perfect together. He thought their marriage was great from the news that Gracia shared with him. Sure, he hadn't really been in contact. He had been busy, and was caught in the middle of rough politics.

"Are you _leaving_ me?" Winry gasped, as if it were a preposterous idea.

"Win, I can't take this anymore. Please don't do this," Edward pleaded.

Winry looked accusingly at Roy. "What did he call you here for? Get out of my house. Leave."

Roy got the message and stood up to leave, making stern eye contact with Edward as he did so. He walked out of the room, through the hall that Winry had led him through earlier, and out the front door. There was a rocking chair on the porch and Roy sat himself down in it, sore from the train ride here. Yes, he was definitely too old for this.

Yelling commenced. He could hear things crashing and Edward's deep voice on a defensive tone as his wife screamed. The two children were crying enough for Roy to faintly hear them through the front door. Roy heard Edward yell after a thud-like sound, "God DAMMIT, WINRY!"

Things were worse than Roy had thought.

It was quiet for a few minutes and had he been anywhere else, it wouldn't have been so unsettling. Finally, there was stomping and he could kind of hear them talking. They seemed to change roles; Winry's voice was pleading, and Edward's was strong.

"Please, Edward, please! I'm so sorry…" He could hear her say.

The front door opened. Edward had a suitcase and his face was stone cold. Roy stood.

"We're leaving," Edward stated.

They left.

**A/N: Tell me what you think?**


	2. You're Bleeding

_**A/N: I don't own Fullmetal Achemist.**_

_**I'd like to note that in my own little timeline, Edward stopped traveling and married Winry in 1917, had their first kid, Maes, in 1921, and this is set in 1927. Edward is 28 and Roy is 42. **_

The train ride was silent until Roy couldn't take it anymore.

"Edward."

The blonde, who previously had his face buried in his hands with his elbows on his knees, looked up at Roy with sullen eyes.

"Edward, you're bleeding."

Roy dug out his handkerchief and offered it to his former subordinate, concerned at the sudden startled look that he received. Was he really not be aware the injury? Blood was matted in his hair and was slowly, so slowly dripping down behind his ear.

"In your hair, Edward. Come here."

He saw that the blonde was about to argue against it but submitted and lazily got up to switched over to the bench that Roy was on. He put his face back in his hands, fingers digging into his golden bangs and Roy hesitantly reached out to brush some of Edward's hair to the side as he lightly dabbed at the gash. It wasn't bad. He wouldn't need a hospital.

An attendant walked by and he asked for some medical supplies. She said that she would return shortly.

"This is so fucked up," Roy barely heard Edward mutter into his hands. "It wasn't supposed to be like this, Mustang."

"I can believe that," Roy murmured.

The attendant returned and Roy gratefully accepted the supplies. He carefully hydrogen peroxide on the wound and dabbed at the edges some more, trying to clean the blood off of Edward's scalp. He unwrapped the bandage and tapped at Edward's hands, indicating that he needed to wrap the man's head.

Edward lifted his face out of his hands, but kept his head down. Roy frowned, but dressed Edward's wound, wrapping the bandage below his ponytail and over his forehead, under his fringe.

As Roy set the excess supplies to the side, he gave Edward some distance and scooted a little to the side. Edward turned to look at the man from the corner of the eye and murmured a small thank-you.

The fire that once burned intensely in Edward's eyes was extinguished.

Roy decided that right then on that dirty train, with Edward sitting a foot away from him with a suitcase, no where to go, no family to be with, and an open wound on his head, the Flame Alchemist was willing to do whatever it took to relight the coals that once allowed Edward to walk forward.


	3. Golden Genes

_**I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist**_

_**AN: My boyfriend was my previous beta and we recently broke up, so I'm sure there are tons of errors in this. Sorry about that. I feel like I'm not a good enough writer to write on such a subject, but oh well. Hope I make it work. xoxo**_

Edward set his suitcase down on the bed in Roy's spare bedroom. The blond looked a little nervous over something and Roy hovered in the doorway, wondering if he was going to speak what was on his mind.

"I don't want to be a burden, Mustang. I'll get a job and a place of my own as soon as I can."

As he was spoken to, Roy stepped into the room with a nod. He was sure that Edward wasn't going to be a problem. He had grown quite a bit and wasn't the immature, irresponsible teenager he once was.

But that thought was brought short as Edward opened his suitcase. Roy's eyes bugged and he sighed as he brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Edward's suitcase was filled to the rim with books. No clothing, no toiletries, just books.

"Uh..." Edward looked awkward as he shifted from foot to foot.

"I'll give you something to wear to bed; I'll take you to the marketplace tomorrow."

"I don't have any money."

"It's not a problem, Edward."

Roy expected a retort about how Roy could shove it up his ass and how he'd find his own clothes but was met with Edward just hanging his head.

It would take Roy a while to get used to how much Edward had changed.

The blond sat down on the bed, looking defeated.

"Is there anything else I can do?" Roy asked softly.

"I need access to a library. The State Alchemists' one. I… I can't anymore. Could you…?"

Roy stiffly nodded and accepted when Edward dug a note out of his pocket and gave it to him. It was scrawled all over with titles like The Sun Gods, Ancient Xerxes, The Golden Children, and Roy couldn't imagine what Edward was up to.

"I'll get them tomorrow. The study is downstairs, down the hall and to the left." Roy turned to leave.

"Thanks, Mustang. And… If you see anything by Hohenheim, I need it too."

Roy paused and looked over his shoulder at Edward with narrowed eyes. He wanted to know what Edward was researching and why, but wasn't going to ask unless Edward wanted him to know.

After Mustang left, Edward exasperatingly ran a hand through his fringe. He didn't mean to impose so suddenly on the man, even if the bastard deserved it for making Edward go through so much shit as a child. He did feel guilty, though, but would make it up to him somehow.

He'd make it up to Mustang after he figured things out.

He met eyes with his reflection in the vanity across the room. Golden eyes. He was the only one in the world with the trait. Golden eyes and golden hair. Alphonse didn't receive Hohenheim's genes like Edward did, and Edward's children managed to pass by them too.

He wouldn't have risked having children if he had known.

Edward brought a hand up to his face. It was smooth, wrinkleless, and young. So goddamn young, like he hadn't aged a day past 18. He had watched the people around him grow and mature… Winry was plainly a woman now. Alphonse, from what the pictures have shown him, was starting to look his age too. And Mustang… Mustang was starting to get gray hair. It looked like he saw a barber about it, but Edward could see that he needed a touch up. He was getting old and wrinkly, and Edward was sure that the man felt his age from what he could see on the train ride to Central.

Edward thought at first that he stayed looking so young because he had good skin and kept physically active, but as he continued thinking about it, as he continued watching everyone around him age, things went downhill in his mind. Depression, loss of motivation, submissiveness, laziness… He stopped working out and stopped studying. He did what he could to help his wife and kids, but no matter what, it was never good enough for her.

One night, he took a good look at a picture of his aging brother and mentally put his foot down. No, he realized. Something wasn't right. Edward was almost 30 and still looked 18. _Something wasn't right_. Realizing this stirred the blond up and that night, he wrote to Mustang, not knowing what else to do besides immerse himself in research and try to solve his problems. He couldn't do that there, with an abusive wife and needy kids. This was serious and a huge deal.

He immediately went to the chest of Hohenheim's books that he had locked up after saving them from his burning house. Never before opened, dust flew out and Edward coughed frantically, waving the stale air away. He pulled out thick books, most of them having to deal with alchemy and the ancient civilization of Xerxes. He locked himself in his study, only coming out when the kids called for him. He sunk back inside when he started getting shit from his wife.

He finally left the study when Winry called that there was company and Edward knew that Mustang had come through for him.

He emerged from the study, knowing things about him that should have stayed locked in that chest. He, Edward Elric, was a son of the living embodiment of (corrupted) alchemy itself. Hohenheim was a god amongst people and seemed to have been the only living Xerxian left before he had fathered Edward, Alphonse not seeming to have received the genes.

The ancient Xerxesians, who had lived far longer than Hohenheim ever did, had their own method of alchemy that came from the alchemic energy radiating from the Sun.

Only the fair skinned with gold eyes and matching hair could call upon this power, but this ancient way of alchemy was lost as the years progressed into the late Xerxian Empire. Alchemy had grown corrupt through the information that the homunculus had Hohenheim deliver and thus, the people of Xerxes had found an easier power source to hack into, the one running through the earth that made them open their inner gates and pull out of themselves. It was power that every citizen could use, whether or not they had the traits of the Sun Gods.

Without alchemy in his life, Edward was an empty shell. It was everything he had been working for, ever since he was a child trying to impress his mother and make her happy. Alchemy was his life. And for it to all of a sudden be ripped away… It was worse than losing a limb. Alchemy, which Edward had relied on his whole life, was _his_ talent. It was _his_ thing. Without it, he was good for nothing. He would picture the array in his mind and clap, waiting to feel the exhilarating rush of energy flow through him, waiting to see the blue alchemic sparks, but nothing came. Nothing ever came. Eventually, it got to be too much for the blond.

He opened the chest and read. This new knowledge that he was feeding himself was intoxicating. The hope that swelled in his chest was blinding and his thirst to know more was more stubborn than his quest to get Alphonse's body back. He would stop at nothing to piece together the missing information about the alchemy of the sun gods and although it could be a legend, there was a part of Edward that _knew_ there was truth to it.

Edward's gate was gone, but the sun still shone.


End file.
